


Visiting Hours

by lindaljc



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindaljc/pseuds/lindaljc
Summary: Duty and regrets.





	Visiting Hours

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I've been looking back at some of my very early stories, written for the television show The Sentinel. I've decided to post a few of them here. If you're not a fan of the show I will still be writing and posting stories for Stargate Atlantis.  
> Beta: Thanks, Annie. I hope my little tweaks are okay. All errors are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters, places, and objects from The Sentinel belong to Pet Fly Productions, UPN, Paramount and the SciFi Channel. No money is being made. No copyright infringement is intended. Any resemblance (of original characters) to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. No similarity to any person either living or dead is intended or should be inferred.  
> This story was written by lindaljc with the love of the show in mind.

Jim came into the loft dripping wet. Cascade's predictably wet weather was outdoing itself. He'd shaken his jacket off downstairs but hung it carefully so it would dry overnight without creases. He looked at Sandburg's jacket and shook his head. He grabbed a hanger and arranged the coat so that it wouldn't be a moldy, smelly lump the next time he needed it. He then turned to check what Sandburg had started for supper. It smelled good whatever it was. 

He went to stand over his friend's shoulder and swooped in for a quick grab at some cheese that was going into what looked like a frittata. Why did he know what a frittata was? Sandburg. That's why.

“Smells good, Chief.”

“So, it has the sentinel seal of approval?”

“The seal of approval comes after tasting it.”

Blair smiled and he seemed more relaxed tonight than he had for days. “I just got back myself and wanted something hot for supper. And quick. And … there wasn't much else in the fridge.”

“I'll set the table.”

“That would be great. I'll pop some bread in the toaster.”

It was a very homey, domestic evening. Nothing untoward about it at all.

... Several days earlier

She'd found out where she had to go from some discrete calls to the facility. She wouldn't have to stop at the reception desk so she waited until the woman there was busy. She didn't want to chance having to leave her real name. It wasn't like her to be deceptive, but being here, so close to her, gave her chills that she couldn't explain or control. Just the thought of this betrayal made her feel faint. But she just knew she had to come. Somehow, she knew there wasn't much time. So, if there was to be any closure at all, it was now or never. She didn't know what would happen, but she was here.

She should have told them. She had no business being here, and there was no guarantee that this wouldn't be discovered. Jim Ellison was a sentinel, and Blair Sandburg his guide. Both were too perceptive. If they found out, the consequences were too awful to contemplate. Jim would hate her. She thought Blair might forgive her, but neither of them would forget. And just being here, where she shouldn't be, made her afraid of the sentinel just a bit. 

She walked carefully down the hall toward room 1148. There was so much she didn't know, or could even guess, even after reading the dissertation that had been released. Supposedly it was a work of fiction, but by now she'd read a lot of Blair's work, and this was not fiction, and Blair Sandburg had too much integrity to be a fraud. 

It was early morning. There was a feeling almost of dissociation. She felt almost as if she was a specter haunting these premises.  
She turned slowly to watch as nurses, techs, and housekeeping personnel bustled about their morning routines, with patients moving much slower, but everyone acting like she wasn't there. She took a deep, wavering breath, and headed to the room. The room Alexis was in. 

Alexis. Alex Barnes. A sentinel in her own right. Maybe. She wasn't really sure; wouldn't be until she'd seen her. Maybe not even then. She didn't understand this compulsion; such a complex feeling surrounded by the weight of duty. She knew about Alex Barnes. Knew she'd sold illegal weapons. Knew she was a criminal ten times over. Knew she'd almost killed Blair, and tried to kill Jim. 

Why should she feel compelled to guard her, help her, care for her? Why did she feel the need to protect her? Why? When she hated her. This woman she had never met. Why did the idea of meeting her terrify her so deeply?

All these conflicting emotions overwhelmed her for a moment. They made her dizzy, and she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. A nurse stopped in concern and asked if she was alright. 

Her heart beat a little faster. She didn't want her to know she was here for Alex. “I'm fine. Just a little jet-lagged. Is room 1144 down this hall?”

“Yes. It's just around the corner. I'll take you there.”

“No, no. I'm really fine. I'll sit with … my friend during my visit. I can call if I need something, alright?”

The nurse looked a little uncertain but nodded assent.

“Thank you.” She smiled as if all it was was jet-lag and walked steadily around the corner knowing the nurse watched her until she was out of sight. 

As she walked past 1144, she reached into her coat pocket and felt the still warm item. She clutched the knife once again, afraid of it's potential, yet it was a very practical sort of knife. Good for camping, or everyday utility. Very practical. She clutched it tightly, fearing why she'd brought it. She was afraid she'd use it. Feared she'd kill this Alex that she hated with all her being. But more than that, she feared she wouldn't, because Alex was … broken. Evil.

Maybe that's really why she hated her. She'd been drawn here to protect someone not worthy of her protection, not worthy of her duty, of her care. 

Maybe the knife was for herself, she thought. No. She could never defend that. She was stronger than that. That thought made her feel a little better and she made herself let go of the knife. She continued to Alex's room. 

#1148. She stopped to stare at the number.

She didn't know what she had expected. No guard stood outside. Her door was not locked. Alex wasn't chained to the bed. It seemed wrong that they hadn't tried to contain this evil, but it made it easier for her. Or harder. There was no one to stop her.

She didn't even realize she had entered the room until she was standing beside the bed. She stared for a long time. She could see that Alex had been beautiful once. Now her hair was limp. She wore no makeup. She wore no jewelry. She certainly looked no better than anyone else in a hospital gown, especially as thin as she was. And she looked as pale as anyone would without regular contact with the sun. 

But she had one answer, from where she wasn't sure, but Alex was a sentinel, as was Jim, and Blair was his guide, who Alex had tried to steal away. But that was wrong of her. He wasn't her guide. Her guide was here. Now. That was the second answer she needed. And it was too late for both of them. 

She hated her. Mourned her. Mourned them. The strength and the dichotomy of those feelings made her feel faint again.

What was she to do?

She tried to wipe her tears away but they kept coming. She finally pulled the never used visitor's chair closer to the bed. She felt so weary. She clutched Alex's hand and laid her head down on it so she could still see the sentinel's face. The tears couldn't dry because they wouldn't stop, and they trailed down onto Alex's hand. 

She finally had to look away, and she clutched the sentinel's hand in both of hers and sobbed softly. She felt like a fraud. She wasn't crying for Alex, but for would could have been. 

She had hoped to speak to her if possible. She had expected the answers to more questions but that wasn't going to happen. She'd come here despite all the reasons not to. So maybe she'd do all the talking. She whispered, “Do you hear me Alex? I'm here. I'm finally here even though it's too late. You gave up your search too soon, and I waited too long to try to find you. No, no. That isn't true. I was afraid to find you. 

“You tried to take what wasn't yours to take. You were so twisted inside. Did you even know it was wrong, or was the pain just too great? 

“But I'm here now. How I wish you could hear my simple whisper. Feel my tears as wet streaks on your hand. What is my duty to you now? Why have I come here, now, when I couldn't before? The compulsion has been there for a long time, but maybe I could also feel the wrongness. It was evil, Alex. You held evil I knew I couldn't fight because you were my duty. Did I fail you? Could I have helped you and all those you harmed?

“Fear is a terrible thing. I was afraid to learn the truth. I'm yours Alexis. I think I've come here to grieve, to put this behind me so I can move on. You were for me. I was for you. But we'll never be together. Not here. That time is gone. Maybe if we had been better. Maybe if we had been brave. Maybe things would have been different.”

She gave the hand one more gentle squeeze. 

“I can't stay, and I won't be back. I can't. To do so would betray what I cherish most deeply. I can only promise that I will know when you are finally gone, and I will mourn the loss. That is something I'm sure of Alexis. Goodbye, my sentinel.”

She dried her eyes as best she could, but she knew tears weren't unknown in a place like this. She breathed deeply a few times trying to relax the awful tension. She couldn't appear so distraught as to draw attention. She rose and replaced the visitor's chair. She refused to look back as she let herself out into the hallway.

In that silent room, with her only visitor gone, Alex sighed one last feeble breath as the door slipped closed. “... mine ...”

... Several days later

She left that place behind and found her way to the only real place she might find solace. She knocked carefully on the door.

Jim was the one closest to the door it seems. “Naomi! It's good to see you.”

Blair's surprise was real and so was his smile. She loved that smile. “Mom! Why didn't you call? I could have come to the airport to pick you up.”

She tried to smile. She did. But Blair could see in an instant that something was wrong. Her eyes were too bright. Her nose a little red. And she was so, so tired. 

She finally managed, “Well, I rented a car a few days ago and I've just been driving around. I thought I'd stop in. You know, since I'm in the neighborhood.”

“Mom. You are never just in the neighborhood. And I know something's wrong.”

“Well. I just lost … someone that I cared for, and I needed a little alone time. And then … I needed you.” She leaned in for a long hug. Longer than usual, and she knew that worried her Blair, but she needed just that little bit more.

She could see Jim over Blair's shoulder and smiled a slightly watery smile in his direction. He was just too perceptive, but her secret was hers to keep. She didn't want them to ever know the truth. They shouldn't know. They'd suffered enough because of Alex. For Alexis there would be no redemption. 

This was her burden now.

...

End


End file.
